


Garden

by anemptymargin



Series: New Beginnings [6]
Category: Psych
Genre: Community: older_not_dead, F/M, Older Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-20
Updated: 2012-05-20
Packaged: 2017-11-05 16:36:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/408607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anemptymargin/pseuds/anemptymargin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henry and Iris work in the garden.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Garden

**Author's Note:**

> For [older_not_dead](http://older-not-dead.livejournal.com/) promptathon 9: New Beginnings.
> 
> Prompt: ?. ?/?. Garden

Henry had volunteered to watch Iris for a few hours while Karen slept in on her Saturday off; it was the least he could do for keeping her up late before letting her leave his place Friday night. When he’d arrived, the little girl was already awake and sitting in front of the television with a half-eaten bowl of dry Froot Loops and he couldn’t help but be reminded of Shawn at that age back when he’d come home from patrol and find him and sometimes Gus curled up with their cereal in front of Saturday morning cartoons. It wasn’t much different than last Saturday when he showed up at the Psych office, really.

 

Just like he used to do then and tried to do the week before, he gave her a half hour of crunching in silence before dragging her outside for some sunshine. Thankfully, she was more interested it than Shawn ever was.

 

“My mom’s planting flowers,” she said softly, leading him to a small crate of bulbs and a freshly prepared plot big enough for at least half of them.

 

Never one to shy away from digging in the dirt, Henry hiked up his shorts and knelt in the still-damp earth and plucked a root from the crate. “You know what this is?”

 

She nodded and tentatively kneeled beside him, taking the triangular label in her hand; “A flower.”

 

He chuckled under his breath and pointed to the picture of the soft purple-blue blooms; “They’re called ‘bearded irises’ – just like you.”

 

The girl giggled and raised a curious eyebrow at him, “I don’t have a beard.”

 

“Fair enough,” he nodded, tracing the edge of the picture on the name card, “but you see how the petals on the flower are sort of like a beard? That’s why it’s called that.”

 

She seemed satisfied with his answer and replaced the card in the box, watching as he turned the root over in his hand and took out his pocket knife. “Why are you cutting it?”

 

He trimmed off the end of the root and then set it in the middle of the loose soil filling a hole that had already been dug. “It needs to be small enough grow,” he answered simply, picking up the trowel to cover it.

 

“Let me.” Iris took the small hand trowel away and slowly scraped the soil into place. With an easy shrug, Henry started on the next root and set it gently in the next hole – working quietly side by side with the girl. As she covered the fourth, she quietly asked; “Are you my mom’s boyfriend?”

 

“I… uh…” he stammered, licking his lips before sternly asking; “Why’d you ask that?”

 

She shrugged, one small bow-knotted shoulder of her sundress slipping down. “Daddy asked me if she had one and I told him I didn’t know but she said she was going out on a date last week when Detective Lassiter asked her to come in on Wednesday night.”

 

Henry chuckled under his breath, putting together why she’d been dodging the silent buzz of her cellphone all night, and then frowned at the thought of a kid being grilled over something so petty when the papers have already been filed. “You did the right thing, Iris.”

 

“You didn’t say ‘yes’ or ‘no’.”

 

She was definitely her mother’s daughter, and would undoubtedly make a good detective someday. “I guess…” he searched for the right way to put it, things were still up in the air and there was no real way to know for sure _what_ they were, only that they were something; “…I hope maybe I will be some day.”

 

Apparently pleased with his answer, Iris covered the last bulb and looked up at him with a smile – wiping the dirt from where it had spilled over her hands. Regarding him, studying his face with the critical eye that only a child could manage, she said; “Daddy doesn’t like you. He says you’re a grumpy old man.”

 

Henry snorted and half-shrugged; “Well, I can’t argue with old man… and I guess I can be kind of grumpy.” He brushed off his own hands and then pushed up with a groan comprised of creaky knees and an awkward angle; “What do you think, kiddo?”

 

She hesitated, offering her hand for him to help her up. Looking out over her little garden, she answered; “I think Mom likes you – when she says your name it’s always happy.”

 

A slight blush tinged his cheeks and he pulled his baseball cap lower as though it might protect him from it; “Yeah? She talks about me?”

 

Iris giggled and shrugged again; “I guess so.”

 

He was going to ask more, but before he could the girl darted off toward the house again, tugging at the doorknob. “Where you going?”

 

“I don’t want to be here when the gardener comes because we did his job.” She grinned, managing open the heavy door.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fictional parody in no way intended to infringe upon the rights of any individual or corporate entity. Any and all characters or celebrity personae belong to their rightful owners. Absolutely no money has or will be gained from this work. Please do not publicly link, repost or redistribute without letting me know first.


End file.
